The Blood of the Lion
by unicorn-skydancer08
Summary: Terence doesn't understand how Tumnus and all the other Narnians can believe and trust in Aslan. But the day soon comes when Terence has the opportunity to behold the Great Lion for himself.


**THE BLOOD OF THE LION  
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_My half of another story challenge between me and my friend, GwinMeldron, formerly known as Elfwarriorgirl. We agreed to each write a story in which my OC Terence meets Aslan, personally. I realize that, in all my Narnia stories with Terence (that I wrote so far), there isn't one where Terence and Aslan properly interact. _

_Well, like the saying goes, there is a first time for everything!  
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**Characters (except Terence) ****© C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media  
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**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

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_"Then saith he to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto him, My Lord and my God."_

**~ St. John 20:27—28 (KJV)**

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On the bottommost level of Cair Paravel, in the small, sacred chancel reserved for Sunday meetings and other spiritual matters, the faun Tumnus knelt alone on the cool, smooth floor, near the front. His hands, which were laced together, rested against the edge of the low wooden pew in front of him, while his forehead rested against his folded hands.

Although Tumnus's lips never moved, his heart was poured out in fervent prayer before his lord and king, the Great Lion Aslan.

He asked Aslan for forgiveness for his sins and shortcomings, and he also pleaded for guidance, as well as for strength when he lacked it. So deeply immersed was he in his petitions to the Lion that he was unaware of the time, or of anyone else. When his friend Terence ultimately came into the room, seeking the faun out, Tumnus never even knew he was there.

But then, considering Terence was part unicorn, and was constantly light on his feet, it was easy for him to be there and nobody would notice.

From the way Tumnus was bent over, Terence thought at first that something might be wrong, that the faun was in great distress.

He made a prompt beeline to his friend, and was at Tumnus's side in two seconds. When he reached his hoofed companion, Tumnus didn't look up, or give any acknowledgment of the silver-haired youth. He only kept his head down, his eyes closed, as if he were sleeping, thinking…or praying, with all his might. As he was not speaking, or making any sound at all, aside from a few heavy breaths, Terence couldn't be sure what was on Tumnus's mind. Slowly, Terence reached out a hand and placed it on Tumnus's bare shoulder to get the faun's attention.

That got his attention, all right. With a loud gasp, with a great start of surprise, the faun immediately jolted upright.

When he lifted his head and saw it was only Terence, he quickly relaxed.

"Oh, Terence," he sighed, hand over his heart. "You scared me."

"Sorry, mate," said Terence, somewhat ruefully. "But I had to get your attention somehow."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you." Terence then sent back the question. "What are _you _doing here? It isn't Sunday already, is it?"

"No. I just felt like being in here, alone. I felt the need to pray. There is no limit to prayer, you know. There is no law that says you can pray only at an appointed place and time."

"No," Terence admitted, "I guess not." The young man paused momentarily, before asking, "Did I interrupt your prayers?"

A half-smile played on Tumnus's lips. "My prayers have been interrupted before," he said, "and they will undoubtedly be interrupted again."

"You do pray an awful lot these days, Tumnus." Hastily, Terence added, "Not that I mean that in a bad way—"

Tumnus chuckled. "That's all right, Terence, I understand perfectly what you mean. I'll admit I do this sort of thing many times, and not just on Sundays alone." The faun's tone then undertook a serious note. "But then, we are commanded to pray always, with our hearts as well as our lips. I'm sure Aslan doesn't mind; he loves it when his children talk with him."

Terence frowned at the mention of Aslan, but it was not a frown of anger, annoyance, or disgust. The boy merely looked puzzled.

He had heard a great deal about this Aslan fellow. Just the mention of the name was enough to lull the Narnians into a reverent silence, and cause nearly every knee to bend and every head to bow. Everyone who spoke of Aslan did so in solemn, respectful tones. They called him the Great King, the King of Beasts, the One True King of Narnia, the son of some emperor whose realm lay beyond the sea. But Terence, having never seen Aslan with his own eyes, or heard his voice with his own ears, wasn't sure of what to make of him.

Of course, he had heard of deity, of gods and goddesses, and all his life the unicorn youth had the inherent sense that there was Someone above him.

But he'd never heard of a lion being holy. He couldn't imagine a divine being with four legs. It simply didn't seem feasible, to him.

"Who is this Aslan you speak of, anyway?" he found himself asking, as he knelt down alongside Tumnus.

"What do you mean by that?" Tumnus queried.

"I mean, what is it about him? Almost every day, almost everywhere I go, it's Aslan this and Aslan that. 'Glory to Aslan, blessed be the name of the Lion forever.' You Narnians spend essentially all your time praying to him, and venerating him. You so much as say Aslan's name out loud, and even the strongest of the centaurs and the most stubborn of the griffins suddenly become as docile as lambs." Terence shook his head. "I just can't understand it. Forgive me for saying this, Tumnus, but I never thought there was anything so special about a lion."

"But Aslan isn't any ordinary lion, Terence. If you saw him yourself, you would understand."

"That's it right there, mate. I _haven't_ seen him, and I _don't _understand. How am I supposed to believe in something that I have not beheld with my own eyes? How can it be real to me?"

"If you don't believe," Tumnus informed him, "even seeing is not enough, Terence."

"But _you _saw him. You tell me that he saved you when this Ice Witch—"

"The White Witch," Tumnus corrected.

"Okay, fine, when this _White _Witch cast a spell on you that turned you to stone. You claim that Aslan came to you, and healed you, and you saw him."

"Yes," said Tumnus softly, his eyes shining reminiscently. "Yes, I have. It was, without a doubt, the most wonderful and most frightening moment of my entire life. I shall never forget it."

"And Lucy, Susan, Peter, Edmund, Oreius, Phillip, Sir Giles, the Beavers, and just about everybody in the Cair saw him face-to-face as well—or say they did, anyway."

"It's true, Terence; they really have. I was there with them."

Terence protested, "But what about me? Assuming Aslan truly exists, why doesn't he make himself known to me? Is it because I am not a native of this land? Am I not worthy of him?"

"All of us are unworthy of him, Terence. All of us are weak and pitiful compared to the Lion." Reaching over to touch Terence's shoulder, Tumnus went on gently, "But I am more than sure this has nothing to do with you, personally. It's not what _you_ are. It isn't for me, or for anyone, to determine when Aslan does or doesn't come. He comes when he comes, in his due time."

With a sigh, Terence closed his eyes and slowly dragged his hand over his face, flattening his features and pulling on his long white beard.

When he opened his eyes again and spoke once more, he said, "Aside from all that, it's hard for me to comprehend that you people would place your faith in a lion."

"It's like I told you just now, Terence. Aslan is far more than a mere lion. He is the King of us all, the very savior of Narnia. It is through him that Narnia even exists in the first place."

"If you say so." Terence shook his head again. "But, come on, a lion as a _god? _It just sounds crazy, to my ears. It's all so…so…"—he paused briefly, trying to think of the word—"_farfetched._"

Tumnus sighed, and closed his eyes again, this time putting a hand entirely over them. This conversation was getting them nowhere.

Much as the faun loved and cared about Terence, Terence could be quite insolent and unthinking at times.

Sometimes the boy couldn't see past the end of his own nose, and he had the obstinacy of a centaur. Not wanting to argue with his best mate, however, Tumnus took a deep breath, very slowly lowered his hand from his face, leveled his gaze with Terence's, and said as calmly as he could, "Why don't you go on ahead, Terence? Go back to the castle; I'll be with you in good time. We can have tea together this afternoon, with cakes and sardines. Or, if the weather permits, we could take a little stroll on the beach."

"Fine with me." So, Terence climbed to his feet again and went his own way, though Tumnus could hear him muttering to himself as he made his way out.

Tumnus couldn't quite distinguish the words, but he knew what the young man was brooding over.

"Oh, Aslan," the faun whispered, when he was alone again, "give me patience with my friend, for I am no better than he is…and there was a time, not so long ago, when I was just like him."

* * *

The next day, Tumnus was surprised to come into his room and discover a note on his pillow. "What's this?" he asked himself aloud, as he picked up the little leaf of parchment.

He quickly saw that it was from Terence, requesting Tumnus to meet with him on the beach. Terence didn't say why; he just told Tumnus to come as soon as possible. Tumnus read the letter several times over, impressed with the elegant calligraphy. Though Terence had been human for a short time, and he had only just learned to read and write properly, it didn't take long for him to develop a steady hand and a beautiful penmanship. Every word, every letter was inscribed in such a way that you would have thought it was a formal invitation to a party.

Tumnus decided to take Terence up on his offer. So, after folding the letter neatly in half and setting it on his bedside table, he promptly went to look for his companion.

Sure enough, he found the unicorn youth on the beach, standing alone on the fine white sands with his arms folded in front of him and his face directed at the water. The warm, salt-tinted breeze ruffled Terence's thick goatee and played with his long bangs, causing them to flutter in nearly every imaginable direction.

When Tumnus was within five paces of his mate, he finally spoke to him. "I received your message."

At the sound of the faun's voice, Terence promptly turned his head. "Oh, did you?" the white-haired man commented. "Was it readable enough?"

"I admired the style of the actual lettering," said Tumnus as he slowly drew closer, his hands clasped formally behind his back, as they often were. "The style itself was beautiful—but if everybody in the Cair scattered their words about in that kind of manner, we would have used up an entire year's supply of parchment in less than a month."

Terence flushed slightly at that, but Tumnus only smiled at him.

After a moment, the faun's expression became serious. "What do you want from me, Terence?"

The youth hesitated for just a moment, before saying haltingly, "I…I would like to apologize, mate."

"For what?"

"For the way I behaved yesterday, about Aslan and everything. I didn't mean to offend you."

"That's all right," Tumnus quickly assured his friend. "I know where you were coming from, and I understand completely."

"I could have been more discreet about it," Terence murmured softly, lowering his eyes in embarrassment and shame. "Sometimes I just blurt things out, without thinking."

Tumnus gave Terence a kind pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry. You're not the first to have questioned Aslan's existence, and you certainly won't be the last."

"Forgive me, Tumnus."

"I forgive you, Terence," said Tumnus, and he meant it with his whole heart.

Looking up somewhat hopefully, Terence said tentatively, "We can be friends, regardless of our beliefs…right?"

"Of course, we can. We may think and feel differently, but we're still brothers, nonetheless. I believe what I believe; you believe what you believe. Live, and let live. Right?"

Now a genuine smile broke out onto Terence's face, and he didn't hesitate to answer, "Right."

The two then embraced on the spot, and Terence said with a great sigh of relief, "Thanks, Tumnus. I don't know what I would do, if I didn't have you."

"And I don't know what _I'd_ do without _you_," Tumnus whispered back.

When they finally let each other go, Terence nodded toward the ocean and asked, "Care for a swim?"

Tumnus grinned. "You read my mind!"

So Terence kicked off his boots, while Tumnus shucked his scarf. Together, they raced out into the cool, inviting water. Naturally, Terence got there first. When the water was deep enough, Terence took a deep breath and flung himself entirely below the surface, clothes and all. Tumnus, however, slid under much more slowly, allowing the water to gently envelop him.

For the next hour or so, the two friends sported about in the sea like a pair of dolphins—rising up and diving down, holding contests to see which of them could swim the farthest and hold his breath the longest, scouring the sea bottom for special shells and stones, and splashing one another as wildly and impishly as if they had been small children all over again.

* * *

You may think this is where our story ends, but not quite.

A few days after this, there was a big party held in the ballroom of Cair Paravel, to which many attended. While a small band of musicians played lively and cheery music with pipes, lutes, and tambourines, the other Narnians danced merrily across the floor, with some dancing in pairs, and others in groups. Terence and Tumnus, of course, joined in the throng. Although Tumnus was a superb dancer, Terence danced far much better. Even the nymphs and dryads couldn't dance nearly as elegantly as the white-haired youth could.

Though human, Terence maintained the lissom, flowing grace of a unicorn, and he was as light on his feet as if he were dancing on air.

In the midst of the festivities, there was a sudden hush.

One by one, the people ceased to dance, and even the music died down. Terence, at a loss of what was going on, glanced bewilderedly about the room.

There were a good number of gasps, and unless Terence's ears were deceiving him, he could swear he heard the name "Aslan" floating through the crowd. Then Tumnus's eyes grew unusually wide. The faun's whole body became absolutely still, save for the faint quiver of his long ears. He looked like someone who had just seen a ghost.

But his shock was only temporary, and a look of reverence and joy soon came over his face.

"My lord," Terence could barely hear him whisper, before the spell of paralysis broke and the faun dropped to one knee on the floor, in a very low, very formal bow.

Then Terence saw for himself.

As the awestruck crowd gave way, a big lion came forward—the most magnificent lion Terence had ever seen in his life, or could have ever imagined in his wildest dreams. The creature had a strong, impressive build, and his mane was a luxurious sea of pure gold. As he walked, he walked with perfect poise, with an air of solemn dignity. But his eyes were what truly captivated Terence. They were the brightest, clearest amber, and very intense. They were unfathomably deep, unbelievably wise; it was as if the Lion held the entire world within them. They also shone with a gleam of godliness. In that beautiful, piercing, beatific gaze, Terence felt the presence of a true king.

Terence felt his heart stop at the sight. He felt his very bones turn to water, and he was sure he would fall to the ground on the spot, and never be able to get up again.

No, he thought disbelievingly, no…it couldn't be…could it?

As the noble lion continued to come forth, nearly every knee bent before him, and every head dipped down. Ultimately, Terence knelt himself, right next to Tumnus, but only because his knees could no longer support him. When the Lion reached the Four Monarchs of Narnia, Lucy was the first to react. With a joyful cry, the youngest queen rushed out at the beast and flung her arms around his neck, as far as they could go. This impropriety brought several gasps and a good number of disapproving glares from the crowd, but the Lion did not seem to object.

Lucy held fiercely to his neck for a good while, and when she at last lifted her face, which was streaked with tears, from his mane, she said elatedly, "Aslan! Oh, Aslan!"

_Aslan._ The name struck Terence like a swift kick in the guts, quite literally knocking his breath away. He almost fainted, there and then.

"It is good to see you again, dear one," the Lion answered Lucy, in a deep voice that was grand and majestic, yet kind and loving at the same time.

"I missed you so much," said Lucy, as she stroked his ears and kissed his nose.

Then Aslan turned to Lucy's siblings, who were much more controlled in their behavior, but no less thrilled to see him.

Peter and Edmund simultaneously bowed, while Susan lifted the hem of her long dress and bent into a low curtsy. "Welcome, Aslan," said Peter in a hushed voice. "A thousand times, welcome."

"Peace be upon you, my sons and daughters," Aslan replied benevolently.

Now, Terence knew, for certain. There was no way to deny it any longer.

Aslan was real, as real as he or anyone else in that room.

At first, Terence was overcome with joy and wonder. Then he recalled his attitude from before, and was very ashamed—and terribly frightened.

How could he? How could he have been so stupid? How could he have ever doubted, even for a moment? How could he have discussed the Great Lion so carelessly and flippantly with his friends? How could he have been so blind? Guilt such as Terence had never felt in his life, or would have believed possible, flooded through his entire body. His heart sickened. The youth wished he could disappear, crawl into a dark hole somewhere and hide. He promptly covered his face and ducked his head, hoping against hope that Aslan wouldn't find him out.

But Aslan was not one to be fooled, or put off.

"Terence," he said, as clearly as rainwater.

_Oh, no,_ Terence thought in dismay. Surely, Aslan didn't mean _him? _

Surely, there had to be someone else here who went by that name. But somehow, Terence knew it was himself the Lion sought. He could just feel it.

"Terence?" This time, it was Tumnus who addressed him. The faun looked at his companion with concern and sympathy. Terence became aware that all eyes were on him. The youth thought he would die of the disgrace. At an utter loss, he merely put his face in his hands again. Oh, why, _why_ did Aslan have to summon him now, of all places, in front of _everybody?_

"Terence, come forward." Aslan did not speak loudly or harshly, yet his command was not to be ignored. Terence, however, could not move.

"What are you waiting for, Terence?" someone nearby whispered fiercely.

"Go on, go!" another insisted.

But Terence couldn't have gone, even if he'd wanted to. He didn't have the strength to stand, let alone walk. "I can't," he said helplessly. "I can't."

He felt a pair of gentle hands on him, and Tumnus's equally gentle voice said, "Here, let me help you." Terence hadn't the power to resist, so he allowed Tumnus to haul him to his feet. Tumnus made sure to lift Terence slowly and carefully, and he guided Terence to where Aslan stood, keeping a protective arm wrapped around the boy's shoulders the whole time.

"Don't worry," he tried to soothe Terence, who could barely get his legs to cooperate, "it will be all right."

Somehow, Terence doubted that.

When at last they were standing before Aslan, Aslan gazed long and hard at Terence, and Terence would have collapsed again had Tumnus not been there to support him.

It seemed Aslan could look right into his very soul.

"Terence," the Lion said again, after a time, breaking the silence.

"H-here I am, sir," was all Terence could bring himself to say, in a low, feeble voice.

"Come with me. I wish to speak to you alone."

Terence began to tremble all over, like a fragile leaf, and he became pale as death. When Tumnus saw this, he pleaded, "Don't be too hard on him, Aslan. He's really not—"

"Peace, Tumnus," said Aslan, speaking gently but with a firmness that cut off further talk. "What must be done, will be done."

Tumnus looked at Terence one more time, feeling his heart nearly break for his poor friend. But, in the end, the faun was obliged to draw back, and leave Terence to himself. Terence didn't know how he did it, but somehow he managed to follow Aslan as the Great Lion turned and sauntered out of the room. Terence kept his head ducked the whole time, so as to avoid everyone else's stares. He moved very slowly, each step, it seemed, a step closer to his doom. Lucy wanted to go with him, to stay with him; but like Tumnus, she was forced to stay back.

This was purely between Terence and Aslan, and Lucy knew it was not her place to interfere.

Still, she couldn't help fearing what would become of the young man. Aslan may have been kind, but he was not a tame lion, and even he had to adhere to the Laws of Narnia.

Like a sheep trailing its master, Terence followed Aslan all the way out of the castle, into the cool, dark night.

They entered one of the courtyards, where there grew a good many trees. Overhead, there was hardly any moon, but countless stars glittered like shards of diamond. Lifting his eyes just a little, Terence could see Aslan quite clearly, despite the darkness. Aslan moved at a leisurely yet steady pace, his velvet paws making no sound whatsoever.

What would happen, now?

Surely, Terence would be punished for defying the Great Lion, for all his other sins and slip-ups.

Maybe Aslan would destroy him here, rip his body completely to pieces. With those dreadful claws and terrible teeth of his, that wouldn't be hard to do at all.

Or, worse, maybe the Lion would banish him from Narnia—forbid him from ever seeing Tumnus and Lucy and all his friends again. Tears blurred Terence's eyes at the thought.

When at last the two came to a stop, Terence couldn't bring himself to face Aslan. He only stood where he was, head bowed to his chest, agitatedly wringing his hands. His heart was beating so hard and so fast in his chest, he was sure Aslan must hear it. He couldn't stop shaking, couldn't control his harsh, ragged breathing. "Child," he heard Aslan's voice say, "why do you not look at me? Am I truly that repulsive to you?" There was not a hint of anger in the Lion's tone, or malice of any kind. If anything, he sounded disappointed, even sorrowful.

Of course, Terence knew _he_ was the one who was so repulsive.

There were at least a thousand things the white-haired youth wanted to say, but the only words he could choke out were, "I'm sorry, Aslan…I'm so sorry."

It was too much for him to bear, and Terence fell to his knees in the cold grass and broke out weeping. He buried his face in his hands and began to sob freely.

"Oh, my child," Aslan murmured softly, as he regarded the boy with heartfelt compassion.

Terence felt what he knew to be a paw slide over his trembling shoulders, and while he did not shy away, he refused to look up.

"Forgive me," he wept into his palms. "Oh, forgive me!"

Aslan said nothing more for the time being, but he stayed with Terence and allowed him to weep, while Terence tearfully pleaded again and again for mercy, and at the same time swore the Lion ought to have nothing to do with the likes of him. "I don't deserve you, Aslan," he moaned. "I doubted you; worse, I dishonored you. I made fun of you, and even scorned those who believed in you—including Tumnus, my very best friend in the whole world. Oh, I'm so ashamed!" He bent down further, and wept even harder and more inconsolably.

When Aslan did finally speak again, he said in a low, mild voice, "Terence, look at me."

After some hesitation, Terence dared to lift his dripping face, barely able to focus through the thick fog of tears.

"Pick up that thorn on the ground, in front of you," Aslan told him.

Glancing down, Terence saw there was indeed a thorn, right there. It was rather big, at least six inches in length, and the point at the end was as sharp as a needle. With some trepidation, Terence reached out and picked it up, and held it between two fingers. "Now take it," Aslan instructed, "and pierce the center of my right paw with it."

Surprised, unsure of whether he'd heard right, Terence said tentatively, "M-must I, sir?"

"Yes."

Though Terence didn't want to do it, he did as Aslan asked. So, he lifted Aslan's right paw in one hand, took an unsteady breath, and used his other hand to drive the barb into the very middle of the paw pad, until blood spurted forth. Aslan did not growl or cry out, or make any sound of pain. Nor did he flinch, or jerk his paw away. The blood that emitted from his wound was redder than anything Terence had ever beheld. Fresh tears spilled down Terence's face at the sight. "Touch my wound, Terence," whispered Aslan. "Feel me, and see for yourself that I am real."

Terence did just so. As the youth tenderly brushed his fingers over the bleeding hole in Aslan's paw, he was amazed at how warm the blood was.

The warmth seemed to spread through his very arm, all throughout his body.

When Terence gazed into Aslan's timeless eyes, the Lion said solemnly, "Doubt me no longer, my son. Believe in me."

"I believe, Aslan." The words were scarcely a whisper, but Terence meant them, from the furthermost roots of his soul.

A moment later, he looked down again and saw, to his utmost astonishment, that Aslan's wound had miraculously healed. The flesh was whole again; not even so much as a scar remained. Not only that, but every last trace of blood had mysteriously vanished, both from Aslan's paw and from Terence's hands. Terence couldn't suppress a gasp, as he realized there must be something truly divine about Aslan. There was no other explanation for how the blood could have stopped just like that, or how the wound could have healed itself in two seconds.

He peered up at Aslan once more, who asked him, "Will you accept me, Terence, as your friend?"

"Yes—oh, yes," Terence quavered, his tears falling thicker and faster. "Yes, Aslan; with all my heart, I will." He dared to ask, "And, what of me? C-can I be considered a friend, too?"

The look Aslan gave him was one of such unspeakable love, that it seemed to melt Terence's bones. "Of course, you can, my dear boy."

Had Terence not been on his knees already, his legs surely would have given way, and he would have fallen to the earth.

Although Aslan's blood was gone from his hands, the feeling of warmth still lingered.

"Oh, Aslan," he sobbed, "how good you are to me…and how I love you!"

"And I, in turn, love you. You are no less precious to me than all of the other creatures who dwell in my kingdom."

Terence could see that Aslan really meant it, and his heart swelled in his breast until he was sure it would burst. In humility and gratitude, he bent his head and pressed his face to Aslan's forepaw, covering it with numerous kisses and tears. If anything more was needed to complete his joy, Aslan lowered his own majestic head to the boy's level, and whispered sweetly into his ear, "Your sins are forgiven, child. Be at peace." Terence never would have believed such words could sound so glorious, so beautiful.

He dropped Aslan's paw, but only so he could grab him by the neck, and hug him with all the strength he possessed. His tears of sorrow became tears of joy, and he wept shamelessly into Aslan's sumptuous mane, his keen sobs garbled by the golden fur. Aslan didn't appear to mind this, for he stayed with Terence, and remained as silent and motionless as a rock.

At a complete loss for words, Terence could only hold fast to Aslan, and try to put everything that he felt for the Great Lion into that one passionate embrace.

* * *

"Tumnus, look!" Lucy said some time later, when they finally found Terence again. Terence was slumped against one of the tall white columns of the castle, and even from a distance, Tumnus and Lucy could clearly see their friend was weeping bitterly. Terence's whole body shook, and even with his face buried in his hands, they could hear him positively wailing.

"Oh, no," said Tumnus, fearing the worst.

Aslan must have turned Terence away—or conveyed some terrible punishment. Tumnus sickened at the idea.

Lucy didn't hesitate to hurry to Terence's side, and Tumnus was not far behind her. When they reached Terence, Lucy touched him gently on the shoulder. She and Tumnus expected the youth to jerk away, or to tense up at her touch. Terence did none of these things, however, but raised his head at once. Though tears were all but flooding down his cheeks, to their complete surprise and disbelief, he was actually _smiling. _His streaming eyes were filled with such inexpressible joy that Tumnus and Lucy were nothing short of flabbergasted. "Terence, are you—" Tumnus began to say, but before he could finish his sentence, Terence had caught hold of him, and the young man squeezed the faun so tightly it was a miracle he didn't choke him to death.

"Tumnus!" Terence all but gushed. "Oh, Tumnus, you were right! _You were right!_" Due to the pressure on his windpipe, Tumnus could only gasp in reply. Lucy had to gently force Terence to loosen his grip, and Tumnus put a ginger hand to his throat when he was finally free. "You were right, mate!" Terence continued to babble.

"Right about what?" said Tumnus hoarsely, as he massaged his aching throat.

"About Aslan! He is everything you said he was—and more!"

"Aslan?" Lucy repeated. "What…what has Aslan done with you, Terence?"

"He forgave me, Lucy!"

"Forgave you?"

"He told me that he loved me, and he accepted me as one of his own!"

Now both his companions stared at him in amazement. "Really?" said Lucy in a hushed voice.

Tears went on pouring steadily down Terence's face, but had his smile been any bigger, his face would surely have burst.

"I can't believe I didn't see it before, but now I do. Aslan is wonderful, absolutely glorious. He's truly the Great Lion. He is the King of Narnia."

Tumnus shook his head, but the faun was smiling himself. Who would have thought that someone like Terence could change his mind so completely, so fast?

_But then, everyone that Aslan truly touches is changed, _Tumnus thought, recalling his own change of heart from years back.

"I'm going to follow Aslan, too," Terence went on.

Startled at this statement, Tumnus knitted his brows at the youth and said, somewhat incredulously, "You, mate?"

"And why not? Surely, there's room for me, isn't there?"

Tumnus was silent for just a moment, his mouth opening and closing several times like that of a fish run aground, before he recovered himself again. "Why…why, yes, of course." His face now lit up as brightly as Terence's as he continued, "Of course, there is! If a faun like me can follow Aslan, weak as I am, then you can follow him also, Terence."

"You were the strong one in this, Tumnus," said Terence, speaking softer, his expression turning surprisingly solemn. He reached for the faun's hand, and clasped it tightly. "You never wavered from your faith, even when I ridiculed you for it. You knew the truth long before I did, and you held fast to it. And, in the end, you helped me to find it."


End file.
